


Bedtime Stories for Grownups: How Patrick Gangbanged My Chemical Romance

by Jane St Clair (3jane)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3jane/pseuds/Jane%20St%20Clair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes off from mimesere's story <a href="http://mimesere.livejournal.com/685483.html">Pretty In Ink</a>, in which Pete was heard to say, "You gangbanged My Chemical Romance?"  Of course, Patrick didn't, not then.  Here he does.  I wrote this as a bedtime for mimesere, to make her happy and because I love her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories for Grownups: How Patrick Gangbanged My Chemical Romance

They have a day off. It's been ages. But then Mikey looks up from his Sidekick and says something about Fall Out Boy being in the next town, and hey, _Patrick_.

It's how they wind up going on a road trip. All five of them in a fucking Toyota Corolla. Ray and Bob get the front seats, because Ray is tall and Bob can't sit in the back with Frank if they expect Frank to be both alive and unmolested by the time they get wherever they're going. And actually, one time Jamia said she'd be okay with that, but Bob looked at her a little wild-eyed and they haven't brought it up since. Frank hasn't actually said he's disappointed, but the rest of them can tell.

Anyway, it's this retro road-trip thing for them, memories of shitty, awful touring, but for a change none of them are really wasted. Like if they'd all met when they were tiny, weird kids and had to carpool to cub scouts or some shit.

Gerard was never a cub scout, but Mikey was. Yeah.

Gerard and Frank play Horses & Cemeteries. Gerard counts up seventeen horses before his side of the car passes a cemetery and he loses them all. It's a good time. They have food, cigarettes, stupid car games. And then they're in whatever the hell this town is. Not a real city, just one of the in-between places they play concerts in, for kids. Miles of concrete and semi-walled suburbs and big fair grounds and endless strip malls. It feels just like home.

They drive around the hotel a couple of times, just looping the block, looking for parking. Instead, they find Patrick.

They seize Patrick, who is momentarily freaked out but then happy to see them. He won't get in the car with them, wouldn't even if he'd fit, because it smells like smoke and the Way brothers, but he totally promises to meet up with them later.

This is more or less how Patrick winds up in Gerard's hotel room, just standing by the door being kissed stupid.

Gerard, it turns out, kisses with his hands on his partner's cheeks, tilting his (Patrick's) face up and holding it still, and kissing very, very seriously, like it's the emergency procedures in case of nuclear attack. And he's pretty and friendly and they've been friends for ages, so when Gerard finally lets go of Patrick's face and slides a hand under his shirt, Patrick decides to go with it. He hasn't gotten naked with someone friendly and undemanding in ages. Gerard's not that hard to get naked, either. He makes happy noises into Patrick's mouth and kisses under his jaw and kicks out of his godawful jeans like it's the greatest idea anyone's had since red eye shadow.

While he's mouthing around, he finds the spot under Patrick's jaw that makes his knees weak. And he stays there, just flicking his tongue over it and playing Patrick's moans up and down a musical scale.

Patrick's left tilting his head up like a crazy person for more (moremoremoremoremore) and curling his toes into the ugly hotel room rug. He's not totally useless; he's figured out that Gerard's nipples aren't super-sensitive, but he'll arch if you pinch them hard. That Gerard's _warm_ , this human furnace of scary-white skin.

S'good.

Makes him want to return the favour. Maybe push Gerard backwards, aiming at the bed, but they trip over the little brown hotel-room chair on the way, and that's fine. Gerard staggers and sits down. It puts him exactly the right height for Patrick to reach on his knees.

And really, isn't that an idea?

He can just settle down, knees on the carpet and hips on his heels, and lean in. Brace himself and lick Gerard's thighs. Bite him up and down. Rake his nails through Gerard's pubic hair and rub around the base of his cock.

Settle in and suck him.

It's good. It's not hard, easier breathing than singing. And Gerard's vocal about loving it; he makes this little whimper-gasp noises that Patrick can feel right down his spine. They don't do this enough. Not for years now. Just, occasionally, he thinks about it at night when he can't sleep, how much he loves being able to make Gerard yelp using just his lips and tongue.

Fingers in his hair comb up and down the back of Patrick's head for a long time before they pull. He's been keeping count by the sweeps, time like music instead of clock-time, so he doesn't know exactly how long he's been sucking, but Gerard's coming _right now_. On Patrick's tongue, shallow enough to give him the option of spitting, but. He doesn't get to do this much.

It's bitter, and for a second he's coughing, but he can swallow, and Gerard drags Patrick up and possibly partly into his lap and kisses him like he's fucking _amazing_. Wraps arms around him and cuddles him.

Somewhere else in the room, Bob Bryar says, "Holy shit."

He's standing in the connecting doorway (it's open it's open of course it is why wouldn't it be open?), arms folded and half-grinning at Gerard and Patrick both. And really, it's not like they didn't come to town for this. Patrick isn't _stupid_. They all like each other fine, but they could've said _hi_ by phone.

It's still kind of like saying hi. Just, only in the country where people are very, very friendly.

It's a good country. It's populated by Bob, who comes and sort of collects Patrick out of Gerard's lap and kisses him stupid with warm, beard-soft mouth brushes and after he's softened up, thrusts into Patrick's mouth and tongue-fucks him til he can't breathe.

Pushes him up against a warm, tall body (Ray, _hi_ ) and rubs against him.

He's slept with both of them before, but never together. It's a good idea, though. They're both careful enough that Patrick'll be able to sing tomorrow, and between them, they just might kill him.

Bob, god. He remembers making out with Bob for hours on their couch, the summer they had a couch in common. Completely separate from the couple of times they fucked. It was slower than this, but it's comfortable. Comforting. It feels the same, when Patrick's straddling Bob's lap. Kissing Bob and feeling Ray kiss his way down Patrick's back. These stubble-hints that ratchet up the nerves on either side of his spine.

It feels fucking amazing. Patrick pushes back against Ray's mouth until Bob lies back and he loses his leverage. Falls. This second where he's staring into Bob's eyes before he slides down. Mouths his belly. Pushes his jeans out of the way and starts sucking him, too. Behind him, Ray mutters something happy-friendly about _head down/ass up_ and sinks his teeth into Patrick's ass. Strokes his fingers down from Patrick's tailbone towards his balls.

And, yeah. Except, he didn't bring anything. Patrick thought about it, earlier, turning around and going back to the 7-11 and picking up lube and condoms, but he's pretty sure the counter guy would've sold the surveillance tape to the highest tabloid-TV bidder, and he wasn't quite up to dealing with that. He came here on trust, and now he's pushing his ass back into Ray Toro's hands and tongue and they're not getting anywhere fast and he feels like an idiot.

In the room's elsewhere, Frank says, "Rayyyyyyy." Breathless and Patrick can hear Gerard's inter-kissing breaths under Frank's voice. Soft key-ticks that could be Mikey and his Sidekick.

Ray's swearing into Patrick's skin, "fuck shit sorry I don't --"

"You suck, Ray."

"Seriously, you're not _helping_ , Frankie."

And Gerard says, 'Under the pillow."

"You bought condoms?"

"No, but I saw Bob put them there earlier."

Bob hisses. Patrick works his tongue along the underside of Bob's cock and hums to him.

It's what Patrick needed. To fall into these guys, who've been his friends for years and who aren't too close to him all the time, let them work him over. All of them, voices and touches and, god, Ray's finger in his ass is amazing. Calluses he can feel scraping just a bit, enough to get his attention.

Long, slow stretch until he's open, relaxed, slick like he can't believe, and still sucking Bob. Settled in for the marathon, and Bob's breathing like it, huge breaths but slow, steady. One hand clenching and loosening in the back of Patrick's hair in time with his longer pulls.

He has to pull off for a second when Ray pushes in, moan or bite down and either way Bob wasn't going to love it, but he's not quite prepared for how hard Bob's hand closes on him, makes Patrick yowl louder than he meant to and there's Ray _in_ him, big and pushing steadily deeper, a hand on Patrick's hip and one spanning the small of his back down to the cleft of his ass where Ray licked him before.

"God shit ow," and Patrick sinks his teeth into Bob's belly, just above his cock, hard. Gets his attention, and Bob lets go of Patrick's head like he hadn't realized he was gripping it. Patrick can feel a couple of hairs he'll never get back fall loose onto his back when Bob shakes the hand out of spasm.

Ray's tall, almost too tall to fuck Patrick this way. It makes the angle extreme, pushes down on his prostate. Til eventually Patrick has to pull off Bob's cock, bury his face in his belly instead and whimper while he's fucked. So good. Deep and steady and those noises he can hear? That's him making them.

Other noises that aren't his: wet-slick slide that's Frank and Gerard kissing. Mikey narrating, so quietly Patrick didn't notice before.

"no he loves it. s'not hurting him. he doesn't sound like that when he's not happy. " Something that might be, "sshhhh, it's okay," but not directed at Patrick. Tin echo of the sidekick's speaker, but Patrick can't make out who/what, and he doesn't care. He's getting fucked relentlessly, just this side of too hard, and part of him wants to push back, straddle Ray's lap and ride him and take control of this. He would. Except his shoulders are trembling and Bob's petting his head and there's a kiss on his shoulder that up close smells like Gerard. Kiss on his spine, on his cheek, on his mouth when Gerard reaches in and turns Patrick's face away from Bob's skin.

He can't lean up enough to look, but he can hear/feel Bob and Gerard kiss. Feel/hear Ray growl and re-angle and right there, Patrick yells.

Mikey's phone screams.

Sends him scrambling down onto the bed, over Gerard and fully dressed, still, holding onto his phone. Holding it out to Patrick, whose eyes won't focus.

"patrick. tell him you're okay."

"Mmph?"

"just. you aren't hurt, right? yeah, no, you need to say that."

Patrick has to think about how his lungs work. How his lips do. Pants. "I'm." _Breathe._ "I'm good. I'm fucking amazing."

Mikey says, "there, see? he's really okay. promise. we're not going to hurt him, really not.

"no, I'm not. but, like. gee and ray and bob and frankie's watching and patrick's pretty, you know?"

Patrick drops his head back to Bob's lap, noses against his cock, and he can breathe again, he's okay. Takes it back in and sucks softly, whimpers around it while Ray fucks him steady and hard and finally pulls Patrick back onto himself and comes, and thrusts one more time before pulling out.

Fingers stroking over Patrick's asshole could be anybody's.

His knees are gone. Patrick's curled up half on his belly around his still-hard cock, and he sucks Bob wet and sloppy until he comes too, into Patrick's mouth and it's different than Gerard, enough that he holds it in his mouth for a few seconds to measure the taste.

Patrick's eyes won't focus and he's still _hard_.

He's more than willing to go with it when hands push him onto his back, spread him out and pet him all over and wrap around his cock. Bob and Ray and Gerard all _right there_ , touching him and stroking him and Patrick comes almost wordlessly, arched up against six fucking hands all petting him together. Warm bodies all around him that close in and keep him warm while he comes down.

This tangle of limbs that keeps adding. Patrick cracks an eye open and there's Frank, crawling over the other guys to lean in and brush his mouth to Patrick's. Friendly. _Hi_.

This little hair-ruffle from Mikey's fingers, a long reach from where he's curled up behind Ray.

They all pet him. Gerard most, and slow touches from Bob and Ray, brushes of fingers from the other two. Kisses on his face and mouth.

Fewer bodies, after a while, until Patrick has enough room to wrap himself around Gerard. A hotel blanket, the soft one from the under-layer of the other bed, wraps around both of them, and Patrick feels amazing. Like he could walk out of here (later, later, way later) and sing out his entire heart without breaking.

 

End

Now go to bed, it's late.

 

[7 April 2008]


End file.
